Chapter 7
7
“H ello, boy. Hello, boy .” Wesley stood in front of the full-length mirror, talking to himself. Well, talking to Zeke, or the imaginary version at least.
He was such an idiot.
He looked hot as fuck though. He was proud of the way his leather pants hugged his ass, and the untucked black dress shirt hugged his shoulders and hung just right. He’d decided on his black Air Jordans; they were easier to dance in and better for poor Wesley if he accidentally stepped on the boy’s toes.
This was going to be fun.
He pulled his puffer jacket out of the closet and headed out.
Carson met him on the path to Zeke’s cabin. “Good evening, Wesley. How goes it?”
That concerned him a bit, but he decided not to borrow trouble. “Well, thank you. I was just on the way to pick up Zeke.”
“Oh?” Carson stopped and offered him a confused smile. “That may explain a lot. Jamie asked me to do a welfare check. Zeke didn’t come by and get his drink at five.”
“Welfare?” Oh God. “Shit, is he okay? I invited him to dinner and the party tonight, did I… is he okay?”
“I’m sure he’s just getting ready. It’s his first party here. Jamie worries. He’s a sweetheart. I’m assuming you’d prefer to go see him instead of me?”
“If you don’t mind. I’ll call if there’s any problem, but he’s expecting me.” A thousand days, and this was his first party. Crazy.
“Of course. I’m glad you caught me. Have a great time, both of you.” Carson nodded and immediately headed back to the bar.
He headed up the steps, past all the pride gear, then knocked with “shave and a haircut” on Zeke’s door.
It took a few minutes before the door opened, Zeke standing there in a pair of jeans, with a black shirt shrugged on and open, giving him a look at a flat belly, a bunch of ink, and a pierced nipple.
“Hello, boy. Am I early?” He decided that if Zeke thought it was okay to open the door half naked, it was okay for him to look. The ink and the piercing were surprising for some reason, but Zeke wore them well. “You look great.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t decide on a shirt. Nothing fits right.”
“Please. Don’t apologize, it’s a very good look on you.” He flicked his eyes up to catch Zeke’s gaze. “Have you had a growth spurt since you arrived here?”
“No. I’ve lost a little weight, maybe? Just… Please, come in. I’ll find another shirt.”
“That can happen when you don’t eat breakfast. Or barbecue.” Zeke seemed petite to him but not skinny. Then again, he hadn’t seen Zeke without clothes on, until the peek he was getting right now. “I ran into Carson on my way up your walk. He was doing a wellness check. Apparently, Jamie was worried when you didn’t show up for your drink.”
“I didn’t. I was looking at shirts. I needed to do that.” Zeke disappeared up the stairs. “Have a seat!”
“Okay.” He watched Zeke disappear and looked around the room. It was cluttered, but in that someone-was-working-there way—papers, guitars, a laptop hooked up to some kind of sound mixing gizmo. He wandered over to the piano and played a couple of notes. He’d played through high school, but it had been a long time since he’d touched a piano.
How on earth had Zeke managed all this? It was wild. Totally focused.
And totally remote. It didn’t seem like Zeke ever traveled to work in person with the artists who bought his work.
He sat on the bench and tried a few chords, remembering some and making a total mess out of others, but he smiled all the same and kicked himself for quitting. He often kicked himself for quitting basketball and karate too. He’d been a stupid kid. That was what stupid kids did.
“Do you play?” Zeke was in a plain black baggy sweater this time.
“No. I played once. It felt like a chore at the time. Something my parents made me do. Now I kind of wish I’d stuck with it though.”
“Ah. That’s a thing, I think.” Zeke stepped into his shoes. “Are you ready to go?”
He stood and carefully closed the lid over the keys. “Hm. What are you hiding under that sweater? I liked the shirt better.”
“It just felt too… thin. I still have a shirt on under this if I get hot or something.”
“I’ll let you get away with it this time because I don’t want you to feel self-conscious on our first date.” He winked at Zeke and looped an arm behind the boy’s back. “Shall we?”
“Yes. I’m ready for a drink and some good music together.” Zeke glanced at his coat. “Are you going to walk me home, do you think, Sir?”
“I am definitely going to walk you home.” Safety first. Maybe a good night kiss second.
“Then I don’t need to worry about my coat. You’re like a wonderful furnace.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He’d just check the coat he was wearing and offer it to Zeke for their walk back here. Score one for the Dom. “I’m told these parties are a little more formal in terms of protocol than the cookouts. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m not uncomfortable with the formalities, just rusty.”
“If it makes you feel better, I play mostly in private. I’m rusty in public too. Or maybe even clueless.” He grinned wide. “I guess we’re going to find out.”
“I’ll follow your lead. Most of the subs here are just babies.”
“I noticed that. I’m sure they’re lots of fun for a night or a scene, but the other morning at breakfast, I felt like they were just here for a good time, to get laid and get their asses smacked pink. It felt like it was spring break or something.”
“Yes. Yes, exactly.” Zeke nodded to him. “Like it’s not real.”
He nodded. “It doesn’t have to be completely real. This is a bit of a fantasy for me too. But I’m here to relax and maybe meet some like-minded people, not to play the field like a horny teenager.” Wesley was sure the theme weeks and the matching services were top-notch. He wasn’t dissing the resort itself. This was advertised as a free-for-all week, an anything-goes week. Fair was fair.
“And you met me. I’m like-minded, and I know you’re going to leave and go back to your real life.”
He closed the door to Zeke’s cabin behind them and kept an arm around Zeke as they walked. “This is real life. Everything I do is real. I don’t have time to play games. But you’re right, I will have to go back, because I have people counting on me. You know what, though? They have these cool inventions called smart-phones. And they do neat things, like you can send pictures and text messages and eggplants that look like dicks.”
“No… really?” Zeke’s eyes went comically wide.
He smiled, happy that he’d been able to pull Zeke back from whatever pessimistic road the boy had been heading down out of sheer habit. “Right? It’s fucking magic.”
“I do love magic, man. Sir. With all my heart.”
“Mm. Me too. I’m looking forward to making a little with you tonight.” He tugged their hips together playfully. “I’ll need a little so I don’t squash your toes on the dance floor.”
“Oh, I’m not a bad dancer. I’m looking forward to polishing belt buckles.”
“Me too. And to whatever amazing multicourse dinner they have planned. I’m hearing there’s fish and crab and wonderful local things.” He reached for the door to the lodge. “After—oh. Maybe you should get the door?” He cleared his throat and straightened up. “Door, please, boy.”
That was better.
“Yes, Sir.” Was that a grin? Really? Someone was a little bit of a brat.
He did not roll his eyes, but he wanted to. He stepped through the door, leaving Zeke to follow, and shrugged out of his puffer jacket as soon as the warmth in the bar hit him. He turned and handed the coat to Zeke, assuming the boy would find a closet or a coat check or something, then headed right for Jamie at the bar.
“Hey, Jamie. Gin and tonic and Cape Cod, please.” Whatever was happening tonight, it wasn’t going to be a scene. They could enjoy a cocktail together before dinner.
“You found him. Oh, thank you, Sir.” Jamie beamed at him.
“He wasn’t lost, just skinny.” He cracked himself up, and poor Jamie looked confused. “He was in his cabin, safe and sound, trying to figure out what to wear.”
“You’re his first date, man. In a thousand days. His first.”
He nodded. “I probably should be intimidated by that, but I’m not. I’m just a guy who said the right thing at the right time. Doesn’t mean anything. Yet.” He hoped it would soon, even if it was just for this week. He wanted to show Zeke that not every Dom was an asshole.
“Still. I’m glad he was okay. I like him.”
“I’m glad to know people care about him so much. Thank you for looking after him. I hope to continue to disrupt his routine for as long as he’ll tolerate me.” He glanced around and saw Zeke headed back his way sans coat.
“I think he looks happy, Sir.” Jamie chuckled. “Way happier than toleration.”
He winked at Jamie. “I hope so, but I worry I’ll step into a minefield.”
“With Zeke, who knows? He’s got things buried so deep they’re going to be diamonds one day.”
He laughed at the phrasing, but the truth was kind of sad. It seemed like they were connecting, but he always felt like he could say or do the wrong thing at the wrong moment, and that would be that. Zeke didn’t seem like he gave second chances easily.
He waved at Zeke as the boy got closer and gave him a smile. “I got you a drink.”
“Oh. You remembered.” Zeke beamed at him, so pleased. “Thank you, Sir.”
“My pleasure.” He picked up his drink. “Cheers to our first date.”
“Yes. Cheers to our first date.” Zeke grinned at him. “May it not be our last, Sir.”
Zeke’s smile was stunning and lit up the boy’s green eyes. It gave him goosebumps. “That was the best response ever.” He clinked glasses with Zeke.
Actual goosebumps. When had that ever happened before?
Zeke beamed at him, sipped his drink. “I haven’t been to a dance in a long time.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a dance. I’ve been out places that have dancing, but this is far more organized.” He was looking forward to having Zeke… closer.
“Not even in high school?” Zeke bumped their shoulders together.
“High school? I’m not sure I can remember back that far.” He chuckled. “Maybe I blocked most of it out? I remember that I took a girl named Lisa to my senior prom and we pretended we were straight. It was awesome.”
People were wandering slowly in the direction of the dining room, and he took Zeke’s hand as they followed.
“I didn’t go to mine. I was on the road, but I did go to a few school dances.”
They were ushered to a table for two. He’d expected white linens and crystal, but this was much better. The room had a steakhouse look—dark furniture and wood tables with raw edges like they’d been cut from trees and varnished. No crystal, just elegant stemware and heavy-bottomed water glasses. “Hey, this is great.”
“It is, isn’t it? So fancy, but not chi-chi.”
He pulled out a chair for Zeke. “So, wait. On the road? Did you have a band?”
“I was in a band. My parents were the lead singers in Gothic Butterfly.”
“Your parents? That’s wild. Did you love it?” He sipped his drink, which was absolutely perfect. Jamie was a genius.
“Sometimes. Sometimes I didn’t. It was very complicated, you know? I wanted to just be a kid.”
“I get that. Where are they now?” A cutting board with a small loaf of warm olive bread landed between them on the table with butter and a knife. He dug right in, cutting a couple of slices.
“Los Angeles. Dad is a producer, Mom does voice-over work. They’re really happy. They tour in the summer.”
He handed Zeke a hunk of bread. “Not a fan of LA?”
“Thank you.” Zeke shook his head just barely, almost enough he missed it. “I like it here best.”
So that guy had been in LA, most likely. “I assumed as much since you’re now a thousand and one days.”
“Yes. I’m a long-termer. I like the sky, the cold, the quiet, and the bears.” Zeke grinned at him. “I love the bears.”
“I assume you mean the furry kind.” He snorted. “The nonhuman furry kind.”
“The nonhuman furry kind. Yes. I’m more into…” Zeke looked him up and down. “You.”
The look in those eyes brought the goosebumps back that easily. “Me, huh? Well, ditto, Music Man.”
“You. You… do it for me. Maybe it’s the shirts.”
“The ones you keep spilling things on?” He’d been told he was good-looking, handsome, even hot once or twice, but no one had ever used those words before and they were sexy as hell.
“Yep. Those were the ones.” Zeke actually winked at him. “Sir.”
“I have never been happier to ruin a shirt, trust me on that.”
“I was so embarrassed. I was in my own world, you know? Somewhere else, and you were there.”
“Right place, right time.” He’d already ordered for them earlier in the day. Most of the Doms had done the same, and the food started coming out table after table. A server set a plate full of seafood down in front of each of them and some family-style sides.
“Oh, wow. That’s lovely. Thank you, Micah. It looks great.”
The server beamed at Zeke. “Thank you. Congratulations on your date.”
That made him sit up a little straighter. “Thank you, Micah.”
The boy looked a little nervous for a second. “Oh, you’re welcome, Sir. Can I get you anything else?”
“Zeke, do you need another drink? Or would you like a glass of wine?”
“I would like a glass of white wine, please, Sir. Something dry and crisp.”
That was surprisingly hot, a sub who knew his wine.
“We’ll have two glasses of a nice Sauvignon Blanc, please.”
“Yes, Sir.” Micah hurried away.
He grinned at Zeke. “Did I scare him?”
Zeke winked at him. “Yes, Sir. To death.”
He laughed. “Well, hopefully he lives long enough to bring our wine.”
He found that making conversation was hard. His nature was to ask questions, get to know things about people that they wouldn’t necessarily volunteer. That’s how he drew in donors for his nonprofit work—latch on to something, find a way to turn it into a fundraiser.
He wasn’t sure how many questions he should be asking right now. Eventually, if Zeke continued to trust him, he’d ask all the hard questions, but he didn’t want to step on any minefields tonight. At least not until after their date. He wouldn’t get to hold the boy in his arms on the dance floor if he scared Zeke off before dessert.
“This looks amazing.” He put his napkin in his lap and picked up his fork to dig in. “I love seafood.”
“Yeah, what’s your favorite?” Zeke unfolded his napkin, smoothed it over his lap.
“I don’t know. Maybe this?” He laughed. “I’ve never had fish in Alaska before.”
“Oh, the salmon is amazing. Seriously. Better than anywhere else.”
“Mm.” The bite he took was fresh and light, not oily at all, less fishy than what he was used to. “This is amazing.” He followed that with another bite, nodding approval.
“I used to think I hated salmon. I hate bad salmon.” Zeke shook his head. “This is lovely.”
“It really is.” There was crab on his plate too and he tried some of that next. “I’m never going to have seafood anywhere else ever again. Oh my God.”
“Right, Sir? Eat local whenever you can. That’s magic.” Zeke sipped his water, smiling at him.
“I like your smile. I like that I can make you smile.” The goosebumps on his skin had turned into a strange nervous feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what about Zeke was making him nervous, but it wasn’t a bad feeling.
“I do too. It’s… the most amazing thing, Sir.” Zeke looked like he was just as confused as he was.
Their wine arrived, and he was ready to drink it, but he raised his glass first. “To Alaska?”
“And to us, Sir.” Zeke raised his glass. “To Alaska and to us.”
“Yeah. Us too.” He touched their glasses together and took a sip of his wine. It was lovely, just what Zeke had asked for, crisp and light. He took a longer sip than one typically would with wine, but he felt like he needed it.
He felt as if he’d swallowed a rash of butterflies, and it was a little—dizzying. Fucking butterflies. No way, not him. This was just a vacation high. A really good vacation high, and he was going to enjoy every damn second of it.
Once the food was served, the lights were lowered a bit, making for an intimate experience, and Zeke relaxed more, licking butter off his fingers, laughing softly at his jokes.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy.
By the time people were finishing up and they heard the music starting in the other room, he was itching to dance. He was actually looking forward to it, not as a precursor to more, but for just what it was—a chance to hold Zeke in his arms.
“I think I’ll have to take my sweater off. The wine made me flushed.”
“Gosh. That’s a shame.” Flushed looked so good on Zeke. “You can put it with my coat.”
“Yeah?” Zeke stood up, licking his lips. “I’ll be right back, Sir.”
He stood too, ostensibly being polite, but his eyes were watching the boy’s lips. “I’ll meet you out there. I’m going to hit the head.”
“Yes, Sir. Don’t hit it too hard.” Zeke blew him a kiss and disappeared down the hall.
He ducked into the men’s room and freshened up, washing his hands and rinsing with a little of the mouthwash in the fancy dispenser. He was glad that Zeke felt comfortable enough to ditch that sweater.
He didn’t buy for a second that Zeke was too hot because of the wine. He thought that Zeke was unwrapping for him.
Offering even less between them.
He’d take it. He was looking forward to it. He ran his fingers through his hair to give it a little bit of a messy look, opened up one more button on his shirt and left the men’s room. The party was already louder, the band was playing and the lights were low. He scanned the room, wondering where Zeke would be waiting for him.
Zeke was outside the door, standing near a trimmed bush. A trimmed bush—that was funny. Under the sweater was a sheer mesh long-sleeved T-shirt that was just a little too big. There was a little shimmer in the cloth that picked up the lights, making Zeke shine.
They weren’t flirting anymore. He went right to Zeke and slipped an arm around the boy’s back. “You look incredible in this.” Clever boy. Naughty boy. He was so here for it.
“Do I, Sir? You like it?” Zeke leaned back into his arm, letting him get a peek of black ink, the silver ring in one nipple.
He made sure Zeke knew he’d noticed, then lifted his eyes to catch the boy’s gaze. “I like it. Can I have this dance?” It wasn’t really a question he needed an answer to, but he waited all the same. It was a date, after all, and though he could have ordered the boy to the floor, he didn’t want to. He wanted all the yesses tonight.
“Yes, Sir. It would be my pleasure.” Zeke let him lead them into the room, the music thrumming, the lights spinning through the room.
He leaned close to Zeke. “I could order you not to laugh at my bad dancing, but where’s the fun in that?”
“I won’t laugh. This is about loving music. We’re not performing.”
He wasn’t actually a bad dancer. He knew enough to get them around the floor if it was that kind of music. This was very country, and he didn’t know a two-step, but he’d manage. He curled an arm around Zeke and led him into the dancing crowd.